


Terribly Tender

by focaccia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression, But lots of fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Intimacy, Light Angst, Mind the Tags, Non-Sexual Age Play, Soft Itachi, Uchiha Itachi-centric, i wrote something very soft and im embarrassed, mdlb, this IS a kinkfic so, tired kisame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/focaccia/pseuds/focaccia
Summary: But surprisingly, he liked getting taken care of and you liked feeling needed.Regardless, uncontrollably, all of that had evolved to this.This being him getting embarrassingly excited over this felted cat that you got just for him, and you making a fool of yourself talking to the damned thing like it was sentient.--feat. itachi being soft and fussy
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

“Ta-chan, you know it’s okay for you to…” you suck in a breath and wave a hand around helplessly, Itachi looks back at you eyes wide, “okay to like…throw tantrums, make a fuss, all that right? Like it’s fine, you’re allowed to act out, I _want_ you to act out, if anyone deserves a break, it’s you, honey.”

Itachi tilts his head, considering. A sneaking thought that he’s being too quiet again, he’s _boring_ you, he’s doing this all _wrong_. He shifts his weight. He doesn’t really know how to start with this, he knows he likes it when you save a piece of dango for him or throw a blanket over him when he’s cold, but to have this in a structured way seems like asking too much from you. The way you’re watching him as you wait for his answer makes him kind of want to turn away and forget he ever came into your room in the first place. Somehow being offered this tenderness is just a stark reminder that he’s never had it, which isn’t anything new. But well, still disconcerting. That realization just brings him back to square one of feeling undeserving of such attention.

He starts towards the door which makes you take another breath in. You make sure to look away, to take the pressure off, “I’m…happy you came to me. It’s fine, we can be quiet, do whatever you want, I don’t mind anything at all.” You turn back to work on the Akatsuki contracts on your desk. If he notices your eyes darting to his corner, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, he makes his way to sit on your bed. He gingerly smooths down the duvet and perches on the edge, back straight.

Now that won’t do.

“First drawer, I got something for you,” you say, without turning around. Itachi reaches over to pull out a small gray felted cat. He strokes its head and turns it over in his hands, it’s soft and delicate, and most important of all, unassuming enough to pass as just a random souvenir. “Are you going to name him?” You sneak a look at him, and it warms your heart to see his small smile.

“Neko-san,” he offers, stroking his head.

“You’re just gonna call the cat Mr. Cat?” You let out a small laugh.

Itachi looks up at you, brows furrowed. He’s easy to tease. “I _like_ Neko-san,” he says, bringing the small cat closer to him.

You get up from your chair and crouch down in front of him. You give the toy a few pets and tut thoughtfully, “Well, I think being respectful has never done anyone wrong. I think Neko-san was very sad when I first found him, but now he looks very happy to have you.” Itachi looks dubious. “What’s that?” You put your ear to the cat, dramatically tilting your head, “You say being called mister makes you feel old? I know right! Ta-chan is a bit old fashioned.”

Itachi scrunches his nose a tiny bit and pulls the cat away from you. He turns away a bit, sulking. You smile softly and reach up to push his hair back, letting him know you were only teasing. Itachi’s always quiet; on the field he’s silent and deadly, but this calm in front of you suffers no pretenses.

He’s baring his neck, isn’t he? Letting you witness this.

This feels like a farce sometimes. Your care now consciously framed this way invites your own discomfort with being nurturing. Shinobi are cutthroat; you’ve used your sex to give an edge, you’ve bastardized anything soft within you to keep you unpredictable, dangerous. Killing on the field any child can learn. Building a reputation so people wouldn’t fuck with you anymore, to _thrive_ (as a nukenin no less), that required a deadening. You had no qualms; it gave you power, it gave you control.

And yet, there was this.

At first, you were kind to him because he was an asset to the organization; he was yours, and you didn’t do well with things under your care suffering. It was also irritating. He was a slight thing, highly capable yes, terrifyingly deadly, definitely; but at the same time, incredibly inept at being alive. It wasn’t like he would refuse medical attention, (like Hidan), he just always did the bare minimum. His quarters stayed barren. He’d eat for the nutrition.

Absolutely monkish, how he deprived himself of simple pleasures.

When you spotted him eyeing the warm throws and pillows on your sofa at your personal hideout outside of Ame, you had mildly suggested to him that the mission payouts could be used for more than just kunai and shuriken. He merely blinked at you.

It was hilarious watching him do recon work without the aid of his Sharingan. Speech stilted and awkward. Polite and proper to a fault. Painfully particular about the strangest things. (Fussy, you could even say.) However, he’d never speak up, exasperating Kisame, who eventually cobbled together enough about his particulars to avoid stepping on his toes.

Oh, and it was adorable how he’d just _sulk_. When he got into one of his moods, (“unpredictable,” Kisame adds, “the mission went well I don’t know why he’s like this”) everyone could feel it. Strangely always after a brush in Fire Country. He’d huff audibly at Deidara’s childish complaints during meetings or tsk when he felt Pein’s assignments were too vague. (Akatsuki kind of had a wait and see policy for some missions, mostly when it came to civilian courts, because intel dealing with politicians often had a short life span.) Coming from a quiet man, these noises of disdain were damning. Kisame would come to you to complain, “He blew half our budget at tea houses this time.”

It started out with you leaving out boxes of high-end green tea whenever you got _that look_ from Kisame. Maybe then he’d feel less inclined to visit tea houses this month, the budget’s been tight.

It was only natural for you to try adding a box of mochi to the mix. Itachi had wandered in to see a plate of mochi laid out innocently in front of you. Kisame had to take a bite with an exaggerated “hmm, delicious!” to convince him it wasn’t poison.

And then there was that night when they had stopped at your hideout, (an emergency re-stock and you were the closest) and you found him sitting on the engawa, staring at the moon, hair undone, lids heavy. _Stubborn,_ you had thought. You left him a mug and a folded blanket.

After they would stop more often at your place, excuses getting thinner until they’d just show up whenever abandoning pretense, and you would spend more time checking over him for injuries because the damned boy would never say anything and let you think the wounds you could see were the only ones.

You had forgotten you could be this gentle.

He told himself he was always too tired to refuse the care, and when he felt guilt at letting himself have this, he convinced himself that you only cared objectively, _professionally_ , your ministrations dispassionate.

You forgot to remind yourself to question your own investment in him. It was easy to remember what he liked, to see his faults and tease him about them rather than tally it all up on your hitlist. For once you didn’t feel made a fool of when you were being soft. 

He expressed he appreciated your care and he liked how it made him feel taken care of. You realized you liked feeling needed.

Regardless, uncontrollably, all of that had evolved to this. Whatever _this_ is.

 _This_ being him getting embarrassingly excited over this felted cat that you got _just_ _for him_ , and you making a fool of yourself talking to the damned thing like it was sentient.

He’s turned away from you, right, sulking again, and you lightly tap his shoulder, “I’m just kidding, Neko-san is a great name. Are you hungry? Do you want me to get you something to eat?”

“I’d like some of the cookies,” Itachi says quietly, politely.

“Alright,” you say, as you get up from your crouch. You pet his head and turn away only to feel him grab at your sleeve.

“No,” he says.

“No? No what?”

His hands curl tighter. “No, stay,” he adds, quite unhelpfully.

“Baby what do you mean? I’ll be right back, I’m just going to the kitchen,” you say. You turn back to face him and put a hand on your hip.

His lips scrunch up in the smallest pout. “No. Don’t leave.”

“I thought you wanted the cookies?” He nods hesitantly. “Well how are you going to get the cookies if you won’t let me go get them?”

At this he pouts some more.

“Okay, you don’t want the cookies then?” You shrug in acquiesce and sit down next to him on the bed.

Itachi whines and shakes his head, exasperated. “No, I want the cookies,” he says. You brace your hands on your knees and make to stand up, but you’re quickly pulled back down. “But you can’t leave,” he adds petulantly.

“If you won’t let me go how can I get your cookies then, baby?” Your smile widens as he goes back to pouting even harder than before. Without his hitai-ate, more of his inky black hair falls into his face than usual. You softly brush some strands back and wait for him. Rather than answering, he closes his eyes and nuzzles at your hand. You draw back and give his forehead a slight poke to remind him.

He huffs angrily. He opens his eyes even just to glare at you! It’d be menacing if not for the toy cat he’s holding. He holds up his arms and nods at you expectantly. You nod back resolutely and stand up and pick him up to set him on your hip. He quickly buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your figure may be slight, but your grip is chakra enhanced. You’re incredibly pleased at the little demands he’s letting himself make.

When you open the jar of cookies, he lets you feed him. He’s busy playing with Neko-san and he doesn’t want to get crumbs on him, thank you very much. He finishes his nighttime snack, and when he yawns, you decide it’s time for bed.

As you approach his guest room, he tightens his grip on your collar and shakes his head minutely. You nod and turn the other way to your own room. He makes a noise of protest when you set him down on the bed but a soft kiss on his forehead quiets him. He watches you change into a soft cotton shirt and linen pants. At this he starts scratching and tugging at his own sleeping yukata. You don’t notice at first, but he whines louder and holds his arms out at you again.

You turn to crouch down in front of him and hold his face and patiently wait for him to say what’s wrong. “No!” Is all you get, yet again. This makes you raise a brow in confusion, you immediately check his forehead for a fever, his arms for wounds, he scrambles away and yells out “No!” again. You let out a sign and rest your hands on his knees.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

He tugs at his yukata more intently.

“Baby use your words,” you coax. Is the room too hot?

“Itchy,” he says quietly, looking away.

“Okay, I can get your clothes from your room,” you say. You get up and remember to pick him up and bring him with you.

He squirms immediately and push at your shoulders to let him down. “No!”

You loosen your grip immediately and stare at him. He falls and braces himself with his hands on your shoulders. But he catches himself at your stare and curls away, withers a little, did he go too far? Was he pushing you too hard, being too difficult? You see his brows crease and you immediately regret not letting out more cues. He’s vulnerable right now, and even if you said you said it was okay for him to be fussy, he’s still needs more than just some words. You roll your shoulders and give him a small smile. You gently raise an arm, telegraphing your movements for him to know it’s not dangerous, to cup his cheek.

“Your yukata’s itchy? Is that right?” You keep your voice low and soft. Asking questions just to get him to not shut himself up again.

“Yes,” he mutters.

“But you don’t want to change into the clothes that you have?” That’s the only guess you have. He nods. “I don’t think Kisame left anything this time,” you continue.

He bites his lip and looks away. You stroke his cheek a bit as you wait. “Could- could I wear one of your shirts? They look soft,” he says softly. And he also wouldn’t mind how they smell like you as well, floral with notes of cedar.

At this your eyes crinkle with your smile. You pull out a well-worn navy shirt and set it next to him on the bed. He undoes his yukata. “Arms up,” you say, and he holds them up as you dress him. You tap his nose once his head pops out of the crew neck. His cheeks redden a bit, and he pushes his face into your chest before you can tease him about it.

You lift the blankets and tuck the both of you in, with Itachi clinging onto you. “Good night baby,” you whisper into the dark. He stirs and presses a kiss onto your jaw.

Whatever this is, it feels terribly tender for your world. His face relaxes as he sleeps, he looks serene, younger even. You feel a bit like something is returning to you, after all these scars. And you decide this is worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the morning after

Itachi feels…not cold but also not as warm as he’d like. Not as warm as he felt when he fell asleep. His hand inches towards where you should be. He strains his ears for any noises from the rest of the house. Silence. His hand folds in on itself into a knuckle white grip, merciless to the soft sheets. He takes a deep breath in and out. He tells himself that this is normal, you leave sometimes for your own missions, you have other responsibilities, it’s _fine._ He chides himself for feeling a tad hurt. _She doesn’t answer to you, she doesn’t owe you that._ It’s just he went to bed with you feeling safer and more settled than he’s been in years and wanting that to continue a little longer would just be… a little more than what he deserves.

Just as he’s curling into himself, the door slides open. “Morning, I brought breakfast.” Itachi blinks and sits up. You’re _still here_. He inches towards you and grips your arm the moment you set the tray down. In surprise, you gingerly pat at his cheek. He mumbles a quiet good morning and finally lets go. He backs up, turns his head down, and starts his meal.

You don’t know what to make of this quick dismissal, but you take it in stride. “I’m going to go get some groceries and I have to go into town, but we can talk – ,” Itachi looks up abruptly. You notice that he’s clutching the cat close. “we _should_ talk when I get back,” you finish lamely. Gods, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Itachi gives a shallow nod.

-

He has tea ready for you when you get back. You notice two things of alarm; one he’s drinking his tea with his eyes closed, meaning he’s _really_ thinking. Or just really upset and is listing all the reasons of his upset by degree of grievance. That would be a lot to sort through. Two, he’s not in his house clothes, as in he looks ready to bolt after he chucks his cloak on. Ah wait add three, Neko-san had carefully been placed dead center of the table, looking like an offering ready to be burned.

Your nails dig into your palm. You know you should probably feel hurt but right now it’s just frustration. “Yes?” You abruptly sit down across from him. He doesn’t stir.

“I don’t know how to feel about last night,” he says.

“Are you sure?” you prod. You vaguely gesture at his getup and at the cat. “Because to me you look like you’re ready to forget about this.” His mouth quirks.

“That’s not…” He sighs and shakes his head, composure broken. “That’s not true. I don’t know. I just felt different this morning.”

He looks really hurt and confused and as much as you want to keep pushing him you feel like you should take a step back. “Okay that’s fine. How did you feel different then?”

“I don’t know, I felt…bad inside. Last night I felt good though, and when I woke up, I thought I’d still feel the same but,” his voice tapers off.

“What was different about this morning then?” you ask gently.

You put a hand over his in reassurance. A beat.

His eyes widen slightly at your touch.

“I woke up alone,” he says, voice tinged with surprise. He puts his other hand over yours and gives the slightest squeeze.

Oh. _Oh._ You feel like an idiot. Also, terribly cruel, like you’d just kicked a kitten. Which, looking at him with his head down and eyes wet, yeah you had done exactly that. You scoot your way to his side and envelop him in a tight hug.

“Itachi, I’m so sorry, I should’ve left a note,” you say. You give him a little squeeze. “No that’s not it,” you rub circles on his back even faster, a tad frenetic. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up it must’ve been really scary wasn’t it?” You feel him go slack at that last bit.

“I thought you left,” he says, voice muffled by your collar.

“I wouldn’t leave just like that. Is that what you thought baby? Is that why you’re all dressed up and ready to leave?” Itachi lets out a small sniffle.

“I bet you thought it was weird and gross and didn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” he says.

“Yes, but I brought you breakfast, didn’t I? What made you think all of that still?” You pull back from the hug to look at him.

“Well, I thought you were doing it because you felt like you were obligated to,” he says.

“I’m not obligated to do anything Itachi. My contract with the Akatsuki is to procure weapons but anything beyond that it’s because I _wanted_ to. And I did those things because I care about you,” you say fervently. He looks lost. You kind of want to shake him, but that would definitely make him cry. “I don’t think this is weird or gross and I want to do these things to make you happy and I _like_ doing these things. Last night was amazing for me. And I want more nights like that for us.”

Itachi is still slightly dubious but what you’re promising him is so enticing. His lips curl into a small smile and he reaches for you again. Maybe this will be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is an itachi whump fic. he needs someone to lay down with him for his naps and for someone to be there when he wakes up or he *will* cry


End file.
